Never Again
by Reda
Summary: In which Prussia insists he won't ever get drunk before the other two members of the Bad Touch Trio. And then France discovers that the Prussian hasn't touched wine, at all, ever. Is it possible? Could Prussia's weak point be the wine he hates so much? And what do you do with a drunk Prussia anyway? Bad Touch Trio - France/Prussia/Spain
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes****: **

-This particular scene is a product of a recent role-play, as is everything else I've written for Hetalia. However, this is not straight from a role-play. Rather it is something referred to by France and Spain – and something which Prussia denies wholeheartedly having ever happened.

-This is in present tense. Because I am strange.

-This is incredibly naughty. I'm gonna go hide under a rock now.

-I turned this into a multi-chapter sex fic. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME? I don't know, really; I just don't know anymore.

-I wouldn't call this non-con. The general feeling is that sex would happen between the three of them anyway; the funny part is turning Prussia into a plaything for the other two. (lol me ~ I find it funny and hot at the same time ~ There is definitely something wrong with me~)

**Warning****: **Rated M for the sex (and language and everything else that makes rated M fics worth it). A little bondage enactment. Bad Touch Trio. OOC? Yeah, probably, definitely a little OOC, especially from Prussia – ah – well – I guess that depends on how you see him when he's drunk? I dunno, I like my version of drunk!Prussia, to be honest. And, really, after writing this, I don't care if they're technically OOC or not; I love them like this. France/Prussia/Spain (y'know with a drunk and pissy Prussia stuck in the middle)

**Summary****: **In which Prussia insists he won't ever get drunk before the other two members of the Bad Touch Trio. And then France discovers that the Prussian hasn't touched wine, at all, ever. Is it possible? Could Prussia's weak point be the wine he hates so much? And what do you do with a drunk Prussia anyway?

(You have been warned; proceed now at your own risk.)

~!~

Never Again

Part 1 – France

~!~

"No, I am _not_ drinking your shitty wine!"

Prussia growls this before taking another large gulp of his current mug full of German beer, and France can only tilt his head in mock innocent confusion. It is quite surprising, the absolute hatred Prussia has for the stuff. Almost as if there were something between him and the more refined alcoholic beverage. France is devilishly curious to find out the secret, also disturbed to realize after all these years that there is still something new to uncover from their albino friend.

"Why ever not?"

France asks this as he sits back in his chair, picking up his own little glass of wine to sip lightly, as if to show Prussia that there's nothing to be afraid of.

Prussia growls again, staring from across the round table. "Because it tastes terrible, that's why!"

Spain giggles, as if Prussia had just said something incredibly funny. "It has a much better taste than your beer, I think."

Spain is standing up. Well, no, he's leaning against the counter in the kitchen, just behind Prussia. Not that he looks ready to pounce the albino or anything. When he gets drunk, Spain always loves to cuddle with the soft pale-skinned Prussian, and he always manages to position himself to make it seem like an innocent grab when he starts.

Gilbert shakes his head at the notion of something tasting better than his precious beer – really, these Germans had no sense of _good_ flavor – but he doesn't turn to look at the Spaniard. "Not possible."

To this, France has to scoff. "Antonio has a point, Gil. Your beer is simply _awful_ – _especially_ compared to a good flavor of wine."

And of course, Prussia glares across the table at him. Easily predictable. When France glances up, he notices that Spain has gotten a hold of some rope. Ah, interesting. So when he pounces this time, he actually plans to hold. This night may get interesting after all.

"There is no such thing as a good flavor of wine," Prussia states, as predicted.

France sighs – and brings his glass to his face so he can hide the smirk from their albino friend. He turns to the side to make his attention seem elsewhere so that Prussia will simply focus on his words. Meanwhile, Antonio is inching forward, ready to pounce and tie their friend to the kitchen chair. France has to try hard not to chuckle.

"Ah, mon ami, you cannot say such a thing until you try it." He holds up a hand to stop Gilbert's protest. "What if someone had tried only American beer but assumed all beer – even your precious German beer – tasted the same?"

To which, Gilbert growls. "It's not the sa-" And is interrupted by Toni's successful pounce. "Hey!"

Capture complete. Francis grins across the table now, watching as Gilbert attempts to escape, flailing his head and kicking out but receiving no reward for his efforts. Arms currently pinned to his sides and staunch rope holding him quite firmly in place, Gil is reduced to a raving mad albino tied to France's kitchen chair.

"The fuck, man! What are you doing?"

Antonio's response is a happy giggle and a glomp, wrapping his arms around Prussia and the chair, rubbing their warm cheeks together – though both are warm for different reasons. Francis can tell that Toni is simply drunk now and on a happy high that is more prominent than normal. And Gilbert is just simply mad.

As for him? Well, Francis is smirking wide now, taking another gulp of wine himself before setting the glass down and reaching for an open bottle – a just recently, only-filled-one-glass, open bottle. "I think this is a great opportunity."

Gilbert immediately shifts his attention from the cuddling Spain to France, making his smirk grow even more when he watches the red eyes widen considerably as the pieces fall together. "Oh, _hell_ no. You can't force me to drink that."

Sensing the challenge, France feels his eyes glow. "I bet I can."

"Bet'cha can't!" Prussia snaps, probably more from habit than anything, knowing full well and good that being tied up gives him little choice in any matter.

"Aw, Gil, I'm sure you'll love it," Antonio hums, starting to play with the silver spikes of hair even as Prussia growls at him to stop.

He's stopped kicking now. That's a good thing. He's stopped struggling completely, too, though that's sure to pick up again when France actually starts to shove the bottle down his face. Stepping over on Prussia's free side, Francis grins. Yes. Gilbert is already starting to cringe away, as if the wine is some kind of poison.

"Open wide," France almost coos as he grabs Gilbert's chin to hold him still.

Prussia opens his mouth to shout some obscenity, but that only gives Francis exactly what he wants. Grinning wide, he shoves the bottle in the albino's open mouth and tips it up, watching the liquid flow down, watching the Prussian's eyes widen in disbelief, watching his friend's throat as Gilbert gulps every bit down – because wine or not, he would never waste alcohol. When about a third of the wine bottle is now inside his friend, France pulls the bottle back, allowing Gil to breathe and curse and kick out weakly.

Hm...weakly? _Now that is interesting._

The pale-skinned face is red across his nose and a little bit in the cheeks – though Gil, being albino, can never hide a blush or flushed face even if he wants. It may not be the wine only, either. Antonio has been enjoying the situation in his own way, hands unbuttoning the nice blue dress shirt. Strange that Gil is wearing something nice, but he _had _come from Elizaveta's dinner party. Of course, he'd spent half of their drinking time complaining about Austria being there and how Hungary had barely given "the Great Prussia" any attention at all.

The Spaniard has Gilbert's shirt open now and is running his fingers down every raised scar he can find. "Get...off, Toni," Gil complains, but his voice is decidedly _less_ angry than it normally is and his struggle is also quite weaker as well.

Antonio seems to notice, keeping his hands where they are but looking up at France. "Give him more," he grins. "I think he likes it."

"No!" Prussia snaps. "Keep that shit away from me!"

Ah. So the fire is still there.

Francis smirks. _Well, we'll have to fix that, won't we?_

Ignoring Gilbert's protests, he positions the wine bottle again and forces their friend to drink more. The feet kick out this time, and Francis barely avoids them. As much as Gil struggles, though, the wine doesn't stop, and that face is most definitely getting redder. France lets his own face sport a spreading grin. He is way too curious to see what Prussia will be like when drunk. Not that he hasn't seen Gilbert drunk before – just that every time he has, Francis has been too smashed himself to really enjoy his friend's state.

Another third of the bottle and France lets up, shaking the rest of the contents as Prussia takes a breath and hangs his head, cursing lightly. "Fuck...you..."

Spain giggles. "I think we will." And then the man licks up Prussia's neck.

Gilbert grits his teeth in order to hide the little noise his throat makes, but Francis hears it and catches the albino eyes when Prussia snaps his head up, trying to pull away from Spain. He is panting and his cheeks are incredibly pink. The look makes France want to strip and fuck him right away, but he has more control than that and he chooses to laugh instead, letting the lust come through in his eyes.

For his part, Prussia looks confused at first, tilting his head a bit, and then something flashes in his red eyes and he seems to understand, pulling back to where he's sitting stiffly against the chair. France smirks. "Oh yes, we will definitely be fucking you tonight."

"H-hey, I'm not-" Whatever Gilbert "was not" is lost when France connects the wine bottle back to his mouth.

Though Francis is quite sure that Gil was going to say how he never bottomed. Well, he has never been the one flushed and weak and positively _drunk _so early, either. It is the perfect time for payback. Francis has been waiting for a chance to top "the Great Prussia" again, since the only time he has done so was long ago when Napoleon's armies absolutely destroyed Prussia's in battle. Now he has a red-faced, slow-reacting, inebriated Gilbert on his hands and he is not going to let this moment pass without taking advantage.

With the wine bottle now empty, Francis tosses it to the side and starts to undress himself, eyes on Gilbert the whole time. Prussia seems a little dazed, panting or maybe just trying to catch his breath after being forced to chug alcohol. There is no struggle anymore as their albino just sits and lets Spain do what he wants. When Antonio nips at his ear, Gilbert's eyelids flutter slightly and his breath seems to catch. When the Spaniard's hands move to his nipples, Prussia's eyes close and he hangs his head, but no sound escapes him except for the light panting.

Throwing his clothes over the back of a chair, France moves away, walking to the counter to pull another bottle of wine out of the case, popping the top as fast as possible and returning to his latest prey. He catches Spain's watchful eyes – and the frown. "More?"

France laughs when Gilbert's head snaps up to gaze at the bottle of wine, eyes narrowing as if glaring at an enemy on the battlefield. "Just in case," he says as an answer. "Besides, I'm thirsty, too."

With that, he takes a drink of the wine, but he doesn't swallow. Instead, he holds it in his mouth, sets the bottle on the table, and sits on Prussia's lap. Spain watches as Francis puts a hand on Gilbert's bare chest and starts working his way up. Prussia watches the hand's journey for as long as he can, but Francis eventually reaches Gil's throat, then his jaw, then his chin, which he lifts up slightly.

"Wha-?"

Perfectly timed, France dives for the chance and crashes his lips into Gilbert's, keeping his eyes open so he can watch the Prussian's reaction. A mixture of wine and saliva enter the albino's mouth, causing him to swallow, causing his red eyes to widen considerably when he tastes the alcohol. He starts to say something, but France reaches around behind Gilbert's neck to hold his head still as he starts to kiss him with more force.

His body is on fire as he invades Prussia's mouth, fighting back that tongue, licking along his teeth, doing everything he can to give the albino a taste of his own medicine. He even accidentally pulls on the white hair, only to be pleasantly surprised when Gilbert's reaction is a deep moan. The red eyes close and France begins to notice that Prussia's battling tongue has become more playful than serious now.

_He's enjoying it. He's enjoying being dominated._

With the new information stored in his brain, France holds Gil's head back with one hand and reaches out with the other, poking his way into the albino's pants. He catches Spain's watching eyes. The Spanish man blinks back at him before grinning and reaching down to help pull Gilbert's pants and underwear back until they reveal the big objective. With a light laugh, Antonio runs his fingers lightly up Gil's pride and joy before latching onto his neck and sucking.

France can feel the moan vibrate all the way to the back of his mouth and he breaks the kiss shortly thereafter, licking his own lips as he stares at the panting albino. "That was new," he whispers, getting a hum from Gilbert as Spain continues licking and sucking the pale throat.

France positively grins and starts leaning forward to capture the albino in another hot kiss, hands reaching down to play with Gil's hardening manhood – but Spain stops him. "Let me kiss him."

"Let me go." Gilbert's voice is quiet – _whispered_ even. "And I'll fuck you both."

And France can't help but laugh at him. "Oh, do _you_ have the wrong idea," he says, pinching the reddening pale cheeks as he meets the half-lidded glare.

It is at this point that Spain whines. "Francis, I wanna kiss him."

To which he sighs. "Fine. You want some wine to go with it?" When Antonio's face lights up, he grins and hands him the bottle, watching as Spain takes a chug of it for himself before handing it back, mouth closed, obviously doing the same trick France had just played out.

Gil is muttering something about "no more shitty wine," but his complaints go unheeded as Spain grips his face and turns it so he can crash their lips together.

Francis finds himself watching and enjoying the show. The fluttering eyes from the albino – as if they're trying to widen but slowly losing such capability. Antonio is a messier kisser and it is shown in the way wine and drool starts to drip from the corners of Prussia's mouth, leaving a light red trail down his chin. Which makes it all the hotter, pushing Gilbert further and further from that I'm-in-control Prussian attitude.

When a moan still refuses to escape Prussia's mouth, though, Francis knows he has to act in order to give Toni the same experience. He swiftly climbs off of Prussia's lap and kneels, pulling the pants and boxers down to his ankles, allowing Gil's "5 meters" to stick out straight in the cool air, ready and waiting. Licking his lips, France dives, lifting his eyes to keep watching as he deep-throats their albino. This much, at least, is a normal occurrence.

The whining moan from their friend, yet again, is not.

Spain pulls back after the noise, his eyes wide in shock. "Wow," he mutters before lapping at his mess, licking up the wine trail on Prussia's chin, diving once again into his mouth.

It's okay. Prussia loves his kisses, even if he isn't the one dominating.

Francis is just determined to add more to the experience, sucking on the length in his mouth, resting his hands on Gilbert's thighs, spreading them slightly, feeling the skin twitch underneath his fingertips. Playfully, he has to remind himself. Keep it playful. Teasing. Don't rush. Do everything differently from what he normally does. Piss him off.

With those reminders, Francis pulls back, slurping along the way. Spain drops the kiss, almost perfectly timed. And the two of them get a whispered curse. "Ah-arschloch."

Antonio giggles and ruffles the white spikes of hair while Gil's head hangs against his chest, panting heavily. "Now what, Francis? Can I play more?"

"Fuck...me..." Gil pants and even if it seems more like a curse than a request, Francis and Antonio both look at each other, grinning.

France stands up, poking a finger at Prussia's forehead but talking to Spain. "Fuck him into the table for all I care. 'ave your fun. I 'ave to grab a toy."

He steps away then, curious to see the state of their albino friend after Toni gets to have fun alone with him. It may be true that the Spaniard is rarely on the giving end in their drunken threesomes but he does have his moments – though such moments have never been with Gilbert on the receiving end. With experience at being underneath Toni, yes, Francis is quite curious to see what Gil will be like when the Spanish man is through.

...And then he'll come in – the sexy Frenchman. Ready to keep the party going, as he always does.

~!~

_A/N: Ahhhh, I'm really hiding under a rock right now. This is what happens when you're horny and you can't get a certain scene out of your head. Don't hate me! Really! Ah hah...At least I gave you fair enough warning, ya?_

_~~Any alerts/favorites/reviews are appreciated – and thanks in advance~~_

_~Reda_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Notes****: **

-Ah hah. Yeah. And now Spain's point of view.

-I've said this before. There is definitely something seriously perversely wrong with me.

**Warnings****:**

-All previous warnings apply

-kinks: whipped cream, oral play with a wine bottle (oh, Spain)

~!~

Never Again

Part 2 – Spain

~!~

Antonio grins happily when Francis leaves, finally getting alone time with the albino. Too bad he doesn't have his own toys here. France is going to get to have all the fun, he thinks. Ah well, he gets to be first.

"Fuck..." Gil whines again.

Toni grins and whispers in his ear. "We'll get there."

He is quite happy when Prussia shudders and he starts to play with the pale hands, which are currently trapped by Prussia's sides, pressing against the seat of the chair. He toys with the fingers lightly, noticing how Gilbert keeps clenching and unclenching both hands with each touch. Toni smiles and walks his own fingers across the seat of the chair, letting his thumbs brush against Gil's bare legs, hoping to make him twitch with the super light touches.

He succeeds and gets a curse. "Fucking hell, Toni... Stop-"

Before Prussia can complain anymore, Spain leans forward and nabs the pale throat between his teeth again, biting down ever so lightly. It cuts off Gil's words in a gasp of breath and he notices that not only are the hands clenched but the teeth as well. Even drunk and more sensitive that usual, Gilbert is not one to make noise, trying to swallow and force down everything that wants to come out.

He supposes the fun part of tonight is going to be _making_ their albino friend moan and beg and cry out for more. Like he never does.

As he plays with the little bit of skin in his mouth, nipping and licking and sucking – which will totally leave Gil with a mark – Toni takes one hand and soothingly pets the white spikes of hair, running his fingers through the mess while he thinks of what else he can do to make things interesting. Meanwhile his other hand rubs circles on Prussia's thigh, ever so slowly inching closer and closer to the place between his legs. But he doesn't touch. He gets oh-so-close and stays there.

"Hnn." The whimper barely escapes between the albino's clenched teeth, but Spain laughs and drops everything to hug him – chair and all.

"You're quite cute like this, you know," he chirps, rubbing his cheek against Gilbert's warm red one.

"Stop teasing, damn it," Prussia manages to whisper through his panting breathes.

_Oh, no, I can't stop doing that. It's way too much fun with you. Now we know why you hate it so much, at least. _

Even as he thinks it, he stands up, stretching and walking away from the bound albino. "Nope!"

The very moment Spain walks away, Prussia's head snaps up and his eyes open, glaring daggers as Antonio leans against the table and takes a drink from the wine. "Get...back here...you fucking-"

"Nope!" Toni says again, grinning as his friend fumes and struggles against the rope again. "I think I'll just watch you from here for a bit and drink up all your favorite wine."

At this, Prussia scoffs. "Shitty wine-"

He giggles at this and scampers over to the refrigerator, leaving the wine on the table, hoping that Francis has at least something fun to use for this game. No tomatoes, which is sad. And of course he wouldn't have churros. But perhaps...

Ah, yes!

With a grin, he pulls out a can of whipped cream and starts shaking it even as he closes the fridge door and walks back to the tied up Prussia. Those red eyes are watching him, not saying anything, but they are positively _glaring_ at the can of whipped cream. Though, that raised eyebrow could mean he's curious and interested.

When Gilbert opens his mouth, he holds up a finger and shakes his head. "Ah ah ah, don't start complaining now or I'll just leave you there until France comes back. Which could be awhile, considering the noise he's making up there." Okay, so he is exaggerating the time that Francis would be gone, but he doesn't want to hear any more loud complaints from Gilbert's mouth; he wants to hear other sounds.

To his surprise and pleasure, Prussia closes his mouth and lets his eyes speak. He is curious. And mad. But mostly curious now.

Without another word, he leans forward and grabs the albino's hard member in his hand. He watches the eyes widen, watches the mouth open, and he dives for the kiss, shoving his tongue into Prussia's mouth. He is happy when he feels the dick in his hand twitch; he is happier when he moves his fingers lightly and feels the moan filter through the albino's defenses. It is unexplainable how good a simple noise could feel when it comes through a kiss.

While he is doing this, his other hand gets busy and starts spraying the whipped cream. He is glad that the ropes around Gilbert's body are low enough to reveal his nipples – and he is also glad that Gil had worn a button-down shirt in the first place, making it easy to unbutton and give access to the parts he wants to play with. When the cool-whip goes on Prussia's chest, he feels the albino's breath hitch and he can also feel his own body flooding in wanting warmth.

He drops his grip on Gilbert's member, getting a complaining whine through the kiss, and he lowers his other hand. When he sprays the cool-whip across Prussia's pride-and-joy, he can swear the man tenses, his mouth completely open and frozen, all sense of playful fighting disappearing.

As soon as he is done setting things up, he pulls away from Prussia's intoxicating lips and steps back, staring at the panting albino. "You..." Those hands are clenching up again. Those eyes are beginning to haze over in pleasure.

_Almost there, are we? Is this why you hate it when we tease you? Are you going to do what I say just to get what you crave now? I wonder..._

With a smile, Antonio reaches around behind him and places the can of whipped cream on the table. He grabs the wine bottle and leans over Prussia, putting the top of the bottle right at Gilbert's lips. Then he whispers, "I'll lick off all the whipped cream if you suck on this – and then drink some more."

He watches the eyes narrow. "As if I'd -" Prussia starts to turn him down, but Toni decides he just needs more convincing and reaches out with a finger to flick at the cream on one of those pert nipples. He gets a gasp and watches Prussia bite his lip before hanging his head. "All right. All right. Just stop teasing."

_Hah! That was easy! Oh, Gilbert, you are..._

He gulps when the albino wraps his lips around the neck of the wine bottle and starts to suck as if something very different were in his mouth.

_Oh shit... _

It is getting incredibly hot in here. Toni knows that he will definitely need some relief soon. But it is way too much fun playing with Prussia. Way too much fun getting the prideful pervert to do something so lewd on command. Way too much fun simply watching him now...

Before he can help himself, he starts to move the wine bottle out of Prussia's mouth and then back in, earning a strange look from the red eyes. At this point, Spain doesn't care about getting noise from the albino's mouth; he is having way too much fun watching those lips enclose and suck on the bottle – imagining those same lips over his own hardening member, trying to recall if Gil's ever done it before. Surely...but maybe not...not while looking this hot at least...

Panting breathes that cause condensation on the bottle. Red, flushed cheeks. Fluttering eyelids. A tongue that starts reaching out and licking at everything even when Spain pulls the bottle too far for the lips to enclose. And then a light keen breaks through, and the red eyes are closed like they don't even care.

_He likes it? Is he just as turned on by this as I am? Why would he...? Unless he enjoys being dominated like this? Oh, Gil, we __are never letting this go, and I know you are going to deny this forever and ever after tonight. But we won't let you forget. You know we won't be able to..._

With another gulp, he leans forward and grabs the back of Prussia's neck, reaching out to pull at the edges of the silvery white hair, earning a gasp as the head tips back and the mouth is pulled away from the wine bottle with a _-pop-. _Red eyes stare up at him, curiously, and then Spain lifts the bottle and tips it into the albino's mouth, watching as the pale-skinned man swallows the wine like an obedient puppy – not that he has much choice at this point.

Without realizing it, Antonio dazes as he watches Gilbert drink down every mouthful. It is way too hot in here for him to think clearly. But when he snaps back, Prussia is kicking at him and the wine bottle is almost completely empty. With wide eyes, he pulls the bottle out of Prussia's mouth, earning a spluttering and coughing friend; he drops his grip on Gil's head to allow him to lean over, small rivulets of wine and spit escaping the corners of his mouth as he fights to get breath again.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he chugs the rest of the bottle and tosses it to the side, barely hearing it clatter as it hits the floor.

"F-fuck..." is his response, gasping and...shaking?

He shakes his head and then jumps forward at the sight of the mess on his friend's chin. He licks up the alcohol and makes his way back to Prussia's mouth for another intimate dominating kiss. He closes his eyes and forces his tongue in, meeting absolutely no resistance this time. When he caresses the roof of the albino's mouth he quickly earns one of those vibrating-to-the-back-of-his-throat moans. Only this time it feels louder and it lasts longer.

Reluctantly, he breaks the kiss, staring back at the red-faced, panting albino. He whines himself this time. "God, you're so hot like this. It's getting hard to hold back."

He watches the teeth come together and the mouth dip down in a grimace, as if he doesn't want to hear that right now. In fact, Gilbert opens his mouth and speaks, eyes slightly opening as well. "H-hey, w-weren't you g-going to..." The voice is quiet, whispery, and _stuttering_. Not slurring like normal drunk people. No, he's stuttering.

Of course, at the reminder, Spain feels even more inadequate. He'd forgotten his deal. He'd been lost in the moment. After all, seeing Gil in such a state – it is almost impossible to remember anything else, even now.

But he nods and smiles at his friend. "Yeah, I was going to do a little of this, wasn't I?" He bends down and starts lapping up the whipped cream on Gilbert's exposed chest.

The instant whine surprises him, as well as the noise hidden behind clenched teeth. "Nnng." He finishes with the whipped cream on Gil's chest, licking at pert nipples, earning twitches as well as light sounds. He gets on his knees and is about to lick up the cream on the albino's member.

But then he is interrupted by Francis returning to the scene. "Toni, you aren't even undressed, yet. This isn't what I expected to see."

Now on his knees, he turns a narrowed-eyed glare to their blond friend, noting the pair of handcuffs in Francis's hand. _Really? That's what you went to go get? I wonder if you were just leaving as an excuse to let me have some fun time..._

Instead of responding to his friend, he turns back to Gilbert and – now in position – leans forward, barely lapping up the whipped cream on the tip. Prussia twitches significantly. Spain puts hands on either of the man's thighs to keep him still and then licks from base to tip, getting a wonderful taste of Prussia and sweet cream.

And earning a very loud whine, followed by pants and the sound of fingernails scraping against the chair. "D-don't s-stop," come the words when Spain decides to sit back and stare instead of continue.

Francis laughs. "I take back what I said."

He watches with his own curious eyes as France steps behind the chair and starts untying their very inebriated friend. Knowing exactly what to expect at this point, Spain puts his mouth all the way around Prussia's member and proceeds to suck, licking and swallowing and going down further to lap up more cream along the way.

"Ah-" comes Prussia's cut off cry, hands grabbing at Spain's hair the minute France lets him free, forcing him to move faster, forcing him to let his mouth get fucked, losing all the control he had been enjoying.

Toni grunts at the knowledge and sends another glare up to France, but he drops the glare when he watches Francis grab Prussia's wrists and handcuff them together. When Francis pulls Gilbert's cuffed hands up above his head, Spain notices the immediate long drawn out whine and recognizes it as an indication that Gil will be releasing soon. France does too, and he sends an encouraging look down at Antonio, picking up the commanding air he always has in their sex games.

Though usually France and Gil are fighting for control. Toni tends to let them have their fun, accepting the sex as the fun time it is no matter what position he takes. Though he was having a lot of fun playing with Prussia.

Still, he can feel it twitching in his mouth. So he goes as deep as he can and swallows, sucking; he moves one hand to play with the albino's balls. Gil responds by arching his back, as uncomfortable as that probably is in the chair. France continues to hold the cuffed hands way above Prussia's head, stretching his arms, keeping him locked and away from any control, even after letting him have a short taste of the domination he usually gets.

"Ahhh-!" Gilbert cries as he releases, eyes closed and a blush adding a different shade of red to his face as the loud noise escapes and echoes in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

Antonio swallows the cum and frees Gil's cock from his mouth, licking his lips before jumping to his feet and kissing their albino. He wants to make certain that Gilbert can taste himself even behind all the wine he's had tonight. He doesn't make it last long, but France is still poking at him before he honestly wants to break apart.

With a groan, Toni leaves Prussia's lips and glares at the smirking France. "What?"

"I'm trying to think of the best place to move him."

Spain shrugs and squats down to pull Gil's pants and boxers free from his ankles, leaving him naked except for the open button-down blue shirt. Which can be easily removed, if they so choose. "You said something about fucking him into the table, didn't you?"

Prussia pants, "H-hey, I-" and is interrupted by two fingers in his mouth. France is quick like that, apparently.

While keeping Gil's arms above his head, Francis leans over and whispers something into his ear. Spain stands up and crosses his arms, upset to be torn from his play-toy. Though when Gilbert starts to suck on those fingers and France starts to move them in and out, shoving them in as deep as he can to make certain they're soaked...Antonio has to gulp, remembering the wine bottle, feeling his own erection poking in his pants.

Okay. He can't take it anymore. He reaches for his belt and starts to take his own pants off.

While France muses on a good positioning, like France always does. "I wanted to see _you_ do that, honestly, so I could come in and catch you from behind."

With a shake of his head, Spain tosses that idea to the background. "No, I don't think so. Not this time."

"Okay, then, what do you want with him?"

Biting his lip as he thinks, Toni keeps his attention on Prussia's face, knowing what he really wants but wondering how likely he is to get it. For his part, Gilbert is looking annoyed now, probably because they're discussing the best way to fuck him, something they _never_ do. Because Gil usually picks a position he wants right away without even asking and they tend to give in easily and let the prideful pervert have his way.

Not this time, though. This time, they get to discuss it. This time, they get to toss out ideas and watch their albino's reaction without having to listen to him. This time, they get to do things _their_ way.

"Be honest, Toni, we don't get this chance very often."

With a shrug, Spain gives his answer. "Honestly? I say we sit on the couch because it's more comfortable and..." He shrugs again, "I want him to suck me off while you fuck him from behind. I can't stop watching him suck things and wonder..." He can only smirk at Gil's absolutely _heated_ glare. Apparently, _he_ doesn't like that idea _at all_.

For his part, Francis groans. "That's not kinky, though." He adds another finger into Prussia's mouth, which makes it three.

Spain giggles. "Kinky, huh? We don't have to stop after one round, you know."

Prussia's eyes widen and he stops sucking on the fingers in his mouth, earning a laugh from France of all things. "I don't think he likes the thought of that." When Gil starts struggling again, Antonio jumps forward and sits on him.

For his efforts he gets a glare and a muffled, "Fuck you, no."

To which he can only smile. Because he smiles at everything. "To make up for all the times we've missed this, I think it absolutely requires more than one round, don't you, Francis?"

"Oh, definitely." France pouts, "Gil, it's up to you how rough it feels, you know. I don't mind going in dry. That's pretty kinky in itself."

With a growl, Prussia returns to sucking on the fingers, even though they should be thoroughly soaked by now, but then France adds a _fourth_ finger, earning wide eyes from both Gil _and_ Toni. "What are you doing, Francis?"

"Just having fun." Then he sighs. "Relax. I'm just passing time at this point. Go ahead and continue your train of thought. What else can we do after the first round, then?"

A sudden idea hits him and Toni feels himself grin wide, eyes bright as he lifts a finger and adds it to the four already in Gil's mouth. God, he loves the feel of Prussia sucking and it's just his _finger_. He closes his eyes and hums for a minute, imaging it happening somewhere else before he opens his eyes and meets the red gaze of his albino friend.

"What if we both fuck him, Francis?"

"Hm? Aren't we going to?"

Spain chuckles and shakes his head, eyes going brighter when he sees the look of abject horror that crosses Prussia's face. Sadly, Gil understands before Francis so Spain lifts his gaze to his blond haired friend and tilts his head as he smiles. "No, I mean at the same time."

"Oh." France mutters. Then. "_Oh._" Followed by a laugh that could have been meant for a perverted villain. "Oh he is never going to live this down."

"Nope. Never." Spain agrees before leaning forward and kissing their albino buddy on the cheek.

~!~

_A/N: Yup. I'm getting kinkier and kinkier as it goes. Anyone else got any ideas? ;P _

_Next chapter: Prussia point-of-view. Oh this is going to be fun._

Kairi: You guys are cowards for not reviewing. Just saying. 'cause I did it!  


_~~Thank you for all favorites/alerts/reviews; let's enjoy the kinky smex together! Wooo~~  
_

_~Reda  
_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Notes****:**

-Writing from Prussia's point of view has me giggling and blushing and ah hah. But I dug my own hole by telling myself three chapters, one for each character. And then leaving Prussia for last. Oh boy, here we go. Expect a lot of cursing ~

**Warnings****:**

-All previous warnings apply (you should know this by now, but this is what I like to call a "sex-fic")

-kinks: DP

-This feels more descriptive...and yet...ah...porn that makes me laugh...I love you, Prussia 3

~!~

Never Again

Part 3 – Prussia

~!~

He has determined that he is going to kill them both one day. Slowly. Very, very slowly. He has yet to decide how or when, but there will be payback. There will most definitely be payback for this.

He will not admit that it feels good. He will not admit that some small (or not so small) part of him is enjoying the ever loving hell out of this. He will most definitely _not_ admit that he wants to _beg_ for them to _hurry up _and can't they just _get on with it?_

The waiting is killing him. The playful teasing has gone from annoying to almost painful. He has never been a patient man – and the both of them know it. In fact, they are dragging this out on purpose. Dragging it out and making him whimper – _whimper –_ as they continue to tease and force pleasure down his throat, quite literally.

But they are talking. Talking and discussing what they are going to do. He is sure to glare at them. Even as he sucks on their fingers like the good little kinky whore that they want him to be – he doesn't care anymore, he just wants to _fuck_. He listens as they talk, amazed that they can stand there and have such a conversation while he sits here, dying. Yes, he is more than likely going to die from heat stroke at this rate.

_Gott_, it is too damn hot in here, and they are doing _absolutely nothing_ to quell the fire. No, they're _fanning_ it, making it _worse_. He wants to reach out and fuck one of them, or both of them, but he can't do that because his damn French friend has gone and handcuffed his wrists, holding them way above his head. And Toni is standing just out of reach anyway, leaning back against the table like he owns the place, earning glares because he's speaking of doing _more teasing._

Of course, when Antonio speaks of more than one round, he has to growl and stop everything. He's already come once! How many more do they want to put him through?

Fuck once and he would be perfectly happy. Hell, he won't even complain anymore about being forced on the bottom. He just wants to have the sex and feel true release. He wants to have this night over with and pushed aside in the very back of his memory. He wants to destroy the very alcohol known as _wine_ – watching it burn on a river would be much more interesting than this stupid, pathetic, weak state it puts him in. Although he is quite sure that his two "buddies" would disagree with him on that one.

Shitty wine.

He tries to spit the fingers out of his mouth. He tries to pull his arms down. Tries to sit up.

But he is stopped successfully each time. Toni actually sits down on top of him now, making him hiss when their erections touch because the Spaniard has finally gotten himself naked, too. And then there's another finger in his mouth and the reminder from Francis that "going in dry is kinky, too."

Fuck. That.

He is not happy, but he complies. Francis isn't just spouting words. Best friend or not, he would go in dry. Sometimes, Gilbert has to wonder if his friends are better than his enemies or not. With the way these two are always -

"What if we both fuck him, Francis?"

He freezes when Antonio throws out his latest idea. Freezes completely and stares at Spain, wanting to snap at him, wanting to call him nuts. Of course, it takes the dumbass Frenchman a while to figure it out, but Francis quickly laughs, perverted as fuck. "Oh, he is never going to live this down."

_I hate you both._

"Nope. Never."

_So much._

Antonio leans in and kisses his cheek, making him grimace at the inappropriate loving gesture. Except not. He can't grimace very well with four fingers fucking his mouth. He ends up letting a grunted moan free despite all efforts to not do so, simply because he wants to snap something at them.

Of course, Toni just giggles at him and ruffles his hair, making him glare harder, if that is at all possible. "I think he's ready, Francis. What position -?"

Before Antonio can even finish the sentence, France starts commanding. "You hold onto the handcuffs. And get up on the table."

He watches as Spain smiles and does just that, jumping up to where he's sitting on the edge of the table, cock hanging out in the free air – hard and waiting. Prussia simply glares, even when the fingers come out of his mouth. He feels his arms move down and forward as Antonio takes control, and he feels Francis touching his sides behind him, the both of them working together to pull him out of the chair and force him to stand up.

He's only standing straight for a little bit before Toni tugs on his bonds and Prussia ends up stumbling forward, bending down to where his face just so happens to line up with the Spaniard's cock. Spain's hands are on his own now, sitting on the edge of the table in between Toni's legs. He can tell that his friend is waiting for something, but he refuses to comply.

_No, I will not suck your motherfucking dick. Not when you're getting so much more out of me right now. That just wouldn't be fair, asshat._

A little voice in his mind does chirp and remind him about Spain giving him a blow job a few moments before. So, would it not be fair to return the favor? But, no, he forces that thought to the side and is about to voice his triumphant stubborn defiance when something wet and slick pokes into his entrance.

He tenses up before he can think about it and has to bite back the whimper. "Oh relax, Gilbert, you should know better than that."

He opens his mouth to shout a comeback but all that comes out is a taut, "Ah -" as the finger starts moving against his inside walls and he fails to suppress the shudder.

_Fuck. I can't even -_

Thoughts are becoming difficult to process as Francis adds another finger. He forces his body to relax because despite himself he knows it feels good and he knows being tense makes everything worse. Whether or not he hasn't bottomed in years, he is not a virgin even in this respect and knows good and well what to expect.

Of course, the relaxing allows another moan and shudder to escape, though he's starting to care less about that as pleasure insists on taking over everything else. As if from another world, he can make out the sound of the handcuffs shaking, like he's trembling or something absurd. A hand grabs onto his hair and roughly pulls his face down, pressing a warm dick into his open mouth.

He tries to mumble a protest but that just succeeds in making drool drip out of his mouth and he is forced to move his tongue and slurp around the shaft, tasting Antonio's precum. He hears something from this other world – the sound of a moan from above – and then the feel of legs around his head, heels against his back, pushing him further down. He is forced to swallow to keep from gagging, forced to breathe through his nose, and yes he most definitely would have pulled back and bitched at Spain if not for the damnable fingers curling against an oh-so-fucking-good-feeling in his ass.

Despite all efforts not to, he moans, vibrating the member in his mouth, and his ears pick it up as a loud hum. His ears also pick up a panting, "Come on, Gil. You have a talent for this and you know it ~ Please ~"

If it wasn't his friend's cock, Prussia is certain he would have bitten down by now. He growls – or tries to – and earns a another panting moan from his Spanish friend, as well as fingers tangling in the mess of his silvery white hair. The feeling of an electric shock suddenly runs down his legs and he probably would have lost his balance if his old buddy Francis wasn't behind him to chuckle and hold him up, the fingers leaving just as they discover that important pleasure filled pressure point.

_Motherfucker._

It shouldn't feel this good. It should _not_ feel this good. He should still want to kill them both, but between the hands in his hair, and the dick rubbing against his ass as his knees buckle, he can't think straight. He just cannot think straight no matter how much he tries.

_Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me, verdamt!_

Closing his eyes, feeling the heat in his face, he takes a breath through his nose again and starts to suck, remembering the look on Toni's face as he gave lip service to a wine bottle. He tries to replicate the image, tries to pretend like he's in control and Spain is the one moaning and begging for more. Although, Spain _is_ the one moaning and begging for more as Prussia sucks and licks and actually cares about the service he's doing for his friend. The humming is caused by his own moans and his own pants for more, though, yet it adds a new layer to the blow job while somewhere in the hazy world behind him, he can feel France's hands on his hips and he can feel something hard start to push its way into him.

And he wants it.

The pain adds to the pleasure, just as much as the rough tugging on his hair, and he gleefully deep-throats his Spanish friend, completely losing all sense of where he is and what he's really doing – so focused on the sensations as he is. He starts to hum on purpose now, playfully licking the bottom of Antonio's shaft, and then his mouth hangs open and tears pop into his eyes as Francis completely overrides all sense of gentleness and slams into him hilt-deep. He swears he cries out, shouts some obscene curse, and he can feel wood chips under his fingers as he claws into the table, but Francis doesn't seem to care, sighing somewhere behind him as he sits and waits for things to adjust.

Suddenly, there is a hand on his own aching, dripping hard member and he whimpers as the pain coalesces with the pleasure. Spain makes some sound above him. Francis makes some smart ass comment behind him. And then things really begin to pop out of proportion as everything moves.

Antonio begins to fuck his mouth, hands gripping hard to his head, tangled in his hair, as he forces his dick in and out of Prussia's mouth at his own pace. Gilbert can only let this happen, unwilling to admit – but knowing it's true – as he trembles and pants and moans like a good little whore. He can't help it, really. Francis is shoving into his ass with slow, purposeful, agonizing strokes – a direct contrast to the fast pace he's enduring between his lips.

And then there's that hand lightly fingering and occasionally pumping his famed super-awesome "5 meters." It's all too much. He is starting to feel shivers down his spine, little pin pricks of pleasurable pain as Francis is probably biting and making marks on his back. He wants to move, wants to _do some_thing – _any_thing_ –_ at this point, but he can't. He can only sit there and take it, and simply admitting that fact makes him moan again, feeling his face flush because he thinks they know his biggest secret now.

Domination.

A complete lack of control, forced upon him, by friends. _Gott_, he's about to come again and he doesn't want to. Except he does. His mind is a mess because he knows what they're planning, yet the pleasure is overriding everything and he eventually loses the battle as Francis hits something special behind him and just so happens to pump him, too.

He comes into his friend's hand and whimpers, loudly this time, as Francis _continues_ to play with him, milking him for everything he can manage. It hurts. No, it feels good, but it hurts, too. He can't make up his mind and he knows France is having to hold him up now for sure.

The damn French bastard isn't even _moving faster_ yet. He feels another electrifying shock and shudders, swallowing instinctively because he can't cry out, and this earns him a shiver from his Spanish friend. No, a cry. No, Spain is coming now, too. He sucks and feels the juices squirt into his mouth, swallowing and lapping them all up, only to get pushed away, feeling the legs move off his shoulders, feeling the hands leave his hair.

An arm reaches around his chest and pulls him up, leaning him back against Francis while Spain just sits there on the table, breathing heavy and smiling like he'd just won a box of tomatoes. "Good job, Toni. Now you have to get hard again if you want to fuck him."

France sounds disappointed, but Gilbert can't comment on it because the Frenchie isn't letting him slip free anytime soon. There is a tongue on his neck. And then teeth. And then sucking and _oh shiiiiit_.

He shuts his eyes and feels his arms shake, hearing the sound of handcuffs clattering – they're no longer being held but he can't seem to move them even though he wants to. "Ah – ahhh," the sound escapes freely this time as his cock slowly pulses back to life, Francis' fingers still delicately toying with it.

Oh, _Gott_, it's too much. He can't _think._ There are so many things he wants to do, to say, but he feels spent and exhausted and yet still _fucking turned on._

"That won't be hard," he hears Antonio say and then there are lips against his own. "If he keeps making noises like that."

He feels a half-hard cock against his thigh and then hands tracing scars on his chest, reaching underneath the blue shirt because _he's still wearing a shirt damn it all_. He gasps and then there's a tongue in his mouth, hot and messy and claiming every inch it can. He keeps his eyes closed, feeling his whole body warm up as the touches excite him beyond what should be humanly possible. A tongue clashes against his own. Elbows bent, he starts to reach up with his handcuffed hands; he feels the skin of Toni's chest and starts to push against it, and then there's an arm – France's arm – circling around his arms and holding them back against his chest.

With France's arm keeping him pinned, he notices the movement from behind seems to have stilled. "You won't hear much if you keep kissing him."

Antonio breaks away and Prussia whimpers – _fuck, again?_ - at the lack of contact. He opens his eyes to narrow slits and stares out at his naked Spanish friend, just in time to see the happy smile – his little warning. "Si, but it's okay, I'm ready."

_Ready? Ready for what?_

He feels like he's forgotten something important, and Antonio's grin is not helping matters. He stares and blinks and tries not to shiver because France is _still fucking touching him_. Then, Toni moves forward and hands grip his thighs. He has the chance to tilt his head, but then his eyes widen as his feet are suddenly not touching the floor anymore.

_Oh shit, shit, shit, shit!_

His legs are being bent and spread. Gravity is pushing him further against Francis, making the French bastard go deeper inside. He's panting and he knows what's about to happen, but he can't get a word to make it past his lips. He can't even protest as Antonio and Francis work together to keep him still.

And then Toni is pushing in, keeping that promise of the both of them fucking him – at the same time. The world explodes around him and he _knows_ he's screaming now. Curses, hopefully, and not just mumbled cries. Because _fucking hell_ that _hurts_.

He must have gone somewhere else for a while, lost in the sensations as they try to make him feel good with light touches as they wait for him to adjust. _Ah, fuck_. Because he does not remember tears on his face and he doesn't remember feeling quite so hot. He doesn't recall when he threw his head back, either, completely allowing Toni to attack his throat without mercy. What really bugs him, though, is the fact that he's shaking, fucking _trembling_ in their arms, and he can't decide if it's from the pain or the new explosion of pleasure that's assaulting his senses.

"Fuck..." he groans, the first coherent word he's managed to say in quite a while.

Spain giggles and kisses his collarbone, and then he's moving. It's not much but when electricity spikes to his biggest pleasure zone, Prussia knows it's enough. He keeps his eyes closed so he doesn't have to face them, but that makes the feeling ten times worse – or better.

He cries out when Toni hits _that spot_ again. And again. And _again._

_Oh, Gott, I'm gonna come..._

Which is going to hurt because he doesn't have anything left damn it all. He can hear whispered words from his buddies but he can't make out exactly what they're saying. Francis won't stop touching him, won't let go of his grip, won't stop toying. He's twitching now; he's definitely twitching and it's pissing him off. Or it would piss him off if he could get beyond the rush of stomach-pulling pleasure.

_I'm going to kill them._

He hears something French in his ear and _thank god_ there's something wet dripping out of his ass now. Not that it matters. It's way too late to be thankful for lube, even if it's _France-just-came-inside-you_. A part of him finds that disgusting, but for the moment he's on a high and not coming down and...

_You fucking asshole, you stopped moving. _

Everything's stopped as a matter of fact. He's on the edge, right on the fucking edge, and they've _stopped. _He wants to howl at them in frustration but all that comes out is another damnable whimper. His throat feels raw. His lips are buzzing. He tries to scream at them to _move_ _gott verdamt, move!_ But all that comes out is _another_ pathetic mewl.

Spain cheers happily and says something in Spanish before his tongue swirls around one of Prussia's nipples, which makes him twitch but nothing more. France sighs behind him. He wants to cry because they've stopped on _purpose_. He knows they've stopped on purpose. They're his friends and they're being assholes. Even his enemies would have finished him off by now. No, they have to _keep_ teasing.

He licks his lips and tries to talk again. He manages to get one small word out, one word that has them both leaning closer. "Please..."

Spain twitches inside him. He can _feel_ that! What the hell? Fuck, the mere twitch makes him moan because it's just barely out of reach of his prostate. This is ridiculous. _Gott_, _why?_

"What was that, Gil?"

"Yeah, what did you say, _mon ami_?"

He wants to crush their heads together. No, he wants to stab them. No, he wants to...he wants..._Fuck..._

"_Please_, _Gott, _please just -"

Thankfully, it's enough. There's a mouth on his throat again. There's a hand moving on his manhood. There's a hand in his hair. An arm across his own, keeping him pinned. There's movement down below...

He lets the cry out, holding nothing back, because damn it all if it doesn't hurt and feel _so damn good_ at the same time. Of course, it isn't finished with his release, either. Antonio still has to move, hitting him a few more times, making him moan from deep in his throat until the Spanish man finally comes as well, filling his seed in Prussia's quite crowded ass.

He's still groaning when they pull out and set him down. When he comes down from the high, he feels like he's sitting in someone's lap, or maybe the three of them are laying down on the floor. He's going to pass out and sleep and to hell with the mess or the cuddling they're trying to insist on.

Someone ruffles his hair again. He swears he's going to make a rule about doing that in the future. No one will be allowed to touch his awesome hair unless he allows it from now on.

"Want some wine before bed, Gil?"

He doesn't know who asked. At this point, he doesn't care. He keeps his eyes closed and breathes against whatever or whoever he's leaning against. Fuck, he just doesn't _care_. He's so exhausted, he's just going to sleep and get revenge in the morning. Yes, revenge will come later. Maybe. If he can think of something to do.

"I think that's a great idea!"

That was definitely Toni. It doesn't matter though. He takes a breath and manages to snap out at the both of them. _Finally_ manages to snap at them.

"Go to hell," he mutters and it has a lot less venom than he would have liked.

But he doesn't care. Sleep is calling. And he answers willingly.

~!~

_A/N: -insert serious perverted grin here- Hope you enjoyed the smexy BTT smex. I know I did ~ (lol) Sadly, that's all. Feel free to send requests. If I get a spark of an idea and I like it, I tend to let it fester and grow and then jump on it with vigor so ~_

_~~All alerts/reviews/favorites are deeply appreciated and admired – because holy hell it's hard to review a kinky story sometimes~~_

_~Reda_


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